Staring at a photo of brambles I see.
Dusky mist filtering around each tree.

Foggy haze, spooky shadows, tangled limbs.
Reminds me of fairytales heard, by Grimm.

To my mind, The Old Woman in the Wood.
Or 7 Dwarfs working for the common good.

Princes and Princesses, Witches and Elves.
Memories of books on grandma's shelves.

Hearing the stories, remembering the images.
As we journeyed through castle filled villages.

Sitting snuggled in her lap, as she read to me.
Joyce Kilmer's marvelous words about a tree.

Those treasures, almost forgotten sometimes.
My mom reading aloud fairytales and rhymes.

Thinking to myself; wow, a spinner of words I too have become.
Who would have thunk, from a photo, these words could've spun?